Sig Christenson: Mortaritaville and the Big Beat

There are days here when a good, strong cup of coffee can be music to the ears. Walking into a coffee shop that’s home to a group of Texas and Oklahoma helicopter pilots, suddenly you’re in a concert, with a front-row seat.

CWO 2 Tony Tsantles and his friends were playing a 1974 Harry Chapin song, “Cat’s in the Cradle,” as a tired customer dropped by Original Java around noontime Tuesday for a much-needed cup of Joe.

“And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon/Little boy blue and the man on the moon/When you comin’ home dad?/ I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, son/You know we’ll have a good time then.”

The customer woke up. Could this really be Iraq? It felt so much like home, a piece of American popular culture on dusty Joint Base Balad, though much like the fictional 4077th M*A*S*H – far from the warming fires of family and friends.

(Sig Christenson/Express-News)

CW 2 Tony Tsantles plays a song on Joint Base Balad.

The day saw a flurry of mortars, one landing just after dusk, and American artillery could he heard in the distance, presumably firing back on the insurgents. There was talk among some officers leaving a meeting about our ground troops engaging the enemy.

But inside the coffee shop, the booming sounds might as well have been drums from a Who concert. The band was cooking, its music every bit as hot as the coffee.

They even had a mandolin. 1st Lt. Kate Merriam, a 26-year-old UH-60 Black Hawk pilot from Charlottesville, Va., sat in a high chair, a sheet of music in front of her, and picked away. Staff Sgt. Sam Simons, 37, of Land O’ Lakes, Wis., played bluegrass on a six-string guitar.

Chief Warrant Officer 1 Nicholas Garmon, 26, of Noble, Okla., held an M-4 rifle. “I don’t play anything,” he said. No argument here. A guy with a gun, of course, plays whatever he wants – or not.

The band was a mix of 101st Airborne Division crews and soldiers from the Texas Army National Guard’s Charlie Company, 2-149 General Support Aviation based in San Antonio.

This was their last gig. The 101st Airborne is headed home.

Simons’ exit will be a real loss. He picked away through several tunes rich in bluegrass riffs, one that conjured up visions of Old West square dances as Chief Warrant Officer Apollo Simonds, 32, of Seattle, Wash., played rhythm guitar.

“Doe see doe and pass her around,” Tsantles sang softly.

Why do it?

“To pass the time,” he said. “You kind of forget where you’re at. It takes you right away.”